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Nature Journal: Impressions from a WNC excursion, 1885

George Ellison, Columnist
Published 5:33 p.m. ET June 21, 2017

Red-breasted nuthatches nest in the higher elevations of the Southern Appalachians.(Photo: E)

Preeminent 19th century American ornithologist William Brewster was only in Western North Carolina for a few days. But for those interested in the region’s natural history, an excursion he made in the 1880s was especially noteworthy.

The visit enabled him to establish with certainty that more than 20 bird species — dark-eyed juncos, red-breasted nuthatches, brown creepers, winter wrens, golden-crowned kinglets, black-capped chickadees, etc. — thought at that time to be "northern" breeders did in fact nest in the higher elevations of the Southern Appalachains.

Brewster's scientific observations were presented in The Auk in 1886 as "An Ornithological Reconnaissance in Western North Carolina." In 1919, the American Ornithologists' Union established the William Brewster Medal, awarded to the authors of the most valuable contributions relating to the birds of the Western Hemisphere.

The meticulous journal he kept was superbly edited by Marcus B. Simpson Jr. and published in The North Carolina Historical Review in 1980 as "William Brewster's Exploration of the Southern Appalachian Mountains.” It is an appealing document — even for those with only a passing interest in birds — because of the descriptions of the region.

Brewster departed by rail for the Carolina mountains on May 22, 1885, passing through Old Fort, Asheville and Waynesville before leaving the train at Sylva, from which he traveled by horse and carriage to Webster and Franklin and followed the Cullasaja River to the Highlands Plateau.

There he found the first solid evidence of “northern” birds nesting this far south. On May 29 he departed Highlands and traveled along the Tuckasegee River (through East Laporte) to Sylva, where he retraced his route by train, arriving in Asheville on May 30.

On June 1 Brewster set out by carriage along the Swannanoa River toward Mount Mitchell and the lofty Black Mountain range. As at Highlands, the Mount Mitchell area yielded additional species.

Returning to Asheville on June 2, Brewster packed his notes and specimens and departed for Boston by rail the following day. Below are extracts from the journal:

Asheville to Black Mountain

1885 June 1 Monday ... Cloudless, warm, and a beautiful day. Left Asheville at 8 A.M. in a top buggy drawn by a pair of horses, my destination being the Black Mountain group.

For the first twelve miles the road followed the course of the Swannanoa River, a beautiful stream averaging about thirty yards in width, for the most part shallow and rapid, its banks bordered by fine red birches (4 ft. in diameter) [sweet or black birch, Betula lenta], sycamores, red maples, black walnuts, red oaks, water oaks [Quercus nigra does not grow in Western North Carolina], etc. with an undergrowth of alders.

The larger trees grew out over, their tops and branches often meeting and interlacing with those on the opposite banks forming an arch of foliage beneath which the river flowed smoothly and silently in places, in others rushed noisily over ledges or rippled musically down the pebbly shallows...

We reached our camping ground ... after a terribly steep, hard pull for the last two miles ... Finally the sun set and as the twilight gathered in the valley below and gradually enveloped the higher slopes and ridges there was a grand chorus of Robins, Wilson’s Thrushes [veerys], and Snowbirds [dark-eyed juncos] for a brief space.

Then the stars began to glimmer and twinkle in the steel blue vault above, a wolf howled dismally on the ridge above and night closed over the scene as we wrapped ourselves in or blankets and made preparations for the night.

Black Mountains

1885 Tuesday June 2 ... Clear and a perfect day. Awakening at 4 A.M. I found the eastern horizon was beginning to flush while overhead the moon gleamed like a piece of silver in the clear but still dusky heaven...

At 4:30 the first Wilson’s Thrush joined the chorus then another lower down the mountain began its song. The keen, almost frosty wind swept past over the mountain side chilling me as I listened, drowning some of the bird voices, bringing others from ridges far away.

A.M. ... The light over the eastern ridge had gradually become stronger bringing out details of trees, rocks, and the outline of neighboring ridges, but the great gulf or “cove” below was still wrapped in gloom, the distant low country and mountains in pale bluish haze...

I saddled my mare and was soon on my way to the summit. For about a mile and a half the path wound its way upward usually in zig-zags after the usual fashion of trails in this region. It was walled by young firs and spruces while the larger trees of the same species cast a dense, gloomy shade rarely penetrated by a shaft of sunlight...

Upon reaching the summit I found myself on a long narrow ridge stretching miles away on a nearly perfect level and rarely more than twenty yards in width. On this ridge rise several peaks elevated from four to six hundred feet above the general elevation of the ridge, which is close on 6000 ft. (my barometer made it 5950 ft.).

For the last half mile I noticed a gradual deterioration in the size of the firs and spruces and on the summit of the ridge they were very appreciably stunted, none being over forty feet high and twelve feet in diameter. Black spruces [red spruce, Picea rubens] predominated with however a larger admixture of balsams than was seen elsewhere.

There were also many yellow birches and an occasional rhododendron. Many of the trees were dead and bleached, in places standing in grim groups, in others prostrate and heaped on one another in tangled masses, with vigorous young saplings growing up to conceal the ruin beneath.

The ground was rough and rocky but rocks, boulders, logs, and crevices were alike carpeted with yellowish-green sphagnum soaked with water by the recent rains...

At about 10 A.M. we started down the mountain... we reached Wm Glass’s at noon and after dining started for Asheville where we arrived at about six o’clock.

The return drive down the valley of the river Swannanoa was charming for the river was at its loveliest in the clear afternoon light and long shadows from the mountains stretched over the fields of grain and the emerald meadows bordering the stream. The birds were singing freely and there was a delicious ripe, mellow quality in the air such as we occasionally notice in New England in October.

Altogether it was a fair picture — such a picture in fact as no one fond of nature could look on without a keen sense of enjoyment. It was a fitting close to a delightful and successful trip for with this day ended my season in North Carolina.

George Ellison is a naturalist and writer. His wife, Elizabeth Ellison, is a painter and papermaker who owns a gallery in Bryson City. Contact them at info@georgeellison.com or info@elizabethellisongallery.com or write to P.O. Box 1262, Bryson City, NC 28713.